


The Phone Call

by BeepinBrennan



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Background Reed900 - Freeform, Canon-Typical Violence, Father-Son Relationship, Gavin Reed isnt as much of an asshole as he could be, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson Swears, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, I love these stupid characters, Injury, Major Character Injury, No Hankcon but ig if you want it could be pre Hankcon, Panic Attacks, my first fanfic please be gentle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 01:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22128139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeepinBrennan/pseuds/BeepinBrennan
Summary: "H-hey, kid," Hank muttered. "Listen, I've been shot. I got- I got hit."Or:When Hank gets shot in the line of duty, he calls Connor. Just in case.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 13
Kudos: 143





	The Phone Call

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally the first thing I've written in years and the first fanfic I've ever written so please gimme some sweet, sweet feedback and let me know what can be improved!

Connor wasn't a fan of being left out of things.

In fact, it was one of his least favorite things. Since deviating, he started categorizing his life as lists. Under the list of "Things I Don't Like," there were a number of entries. Toward the top of the list was being left out of situations.

Just above it was being separated from Hank.

Today at 12:39pm, he found himself in a messy mix of the two. 

He and Hank had been living together peacefully in the months since the revolution, and while it was moderately awkward at first, they soon found their rhythm together and were rarely seen apart from each other.

Of course, with constant contact comes the possibility of arguments.

Hank had come out of his bedroom at 7:13am, already in a poor mood. Connor noticed quickly how he walked in shuffled steps and seemed to cradle his spine as he walked. When the android asked what was wrong, Hank was quick to snap back that he was just fine.

During the drive to work, Connor noticed how often the Lieutenant shifted in his seat.

"Lieutenant, are you sure you are okay?" he asked again.

Hank glared sideways. "I'm fine, kid, just leave it."

As the morning dragged by in a blur of paperwork and silence in the bullpen, Connor found himself restless. He knew Hank was hurting and a part of his processor was focused on helping, somehow making it better, and he found it difficult to focus on his work without being able to close out the task he had assigned to himself:

**_HELP LIEUTENANT RE: PAIN_ **

which, naturally, was easier said than done. Connor offered to retrieve some painkillers for Hank shortly after their arrival to the station. He was not granted a verbal reply, instead receiving a withering stare from the man across the desk.

Unable to focus on his work, Connor found himself attempting to initiate conversations an average of 27% more often than normal, with responses from Hank being an average of five words or less. 

By noon, Hank had achieved a minimal amount of work as he attempted to catch up on the paperwork he often left "to be done another day." Connor, on a similar hand, had managed very little during their morning.

He turned to face Hank once more. "Lieutenant, if I may be up front-" he ignored the groan elicited from the detective- "you seem to be experiencing physical and emotional distress today. I am equipped to assist you. If you choose to allow me to help you, I can-"

"Fucks _sake_ , Connor!" Hank interjected, thumping his hand on his desk and causing some in the bullpen to jump. "Can you just get off my ass for one _fucking_ minute? Jesus, you aren't my fucking babysitter, just drop it already! I'm fine!" 

Connor hesitated before clamping his mouth shut. He dismissed a notice on the edge of his HUD stating that his stress level was rising. Reaching for his pocket, he fiddled with the 1994 quarter that he kept there, unsure of how to respond. Hank took the reins for him by sighing heavily and standing up. Before Connor could ask, he spoke gruffly.

"I'm taking a fucking lunch break. Be back in thirty." Without another word, he pulled his car keys out of his pocket and stomped out of the station, leaving some prying eyes in the bullpen wondering what had occurred, and leaving Connor with an uncomfortable heat along his face and neck. 

_Is this what embarrassment feels like?_ He wondered, turning back to his terminal and pretending to get work done. _Or shame? Or both?_

He quickly decided that whatever this sensation was, it was getting logged on the list of things he did not like. 

"What's the matter?" a familiar, if not unwelcome voice asked. "Lover's quarrel?"

Connor had to keep himself from snapping back at the detective standing beside his desk, arms crossed. As much as Nines insisted on Detective Reed's quality and surprisingly high level of humanity beyond his outer appearance, he still set the android on edge. Since the revolution, they had agreed to stay out of each other's paths as much as possible and remained neutrally tense around the station. Connor calmly addressed him with his eyes still glued to the terminal.

"My relationship to the Lieutenant is not of such nature and I will thank you not to make assumptions insinuating such. The Lieutenant is entitled to bad days as is anyone else." He glances sideways at Gavin. "Much like you, last week, when you were more aggravated than normal because you sleep poorly due to time spent caring for your ill cat."

The detective's face reddened and he looked like he was about to reply, but instead walked back to his desk while muttering something about "fucking Nines and his fucking big mouth." Connor didn't even try to hide his smirk.

As time wore on, the android found himself checking his internal clock often. When 12:30 came and went without a sign of the Lieutenant, he tried to justify it as Hank's naturally late personality. It wasn't long before that hope was crushed.

Jeffery Fowler exited his office suddenly, looking concerned. He approached the bullpen with the confidence of a leader in spite of it. Connor scanned the man as he walked and detected and increased heart rate, increased perspiration, and an elevated stress level.

"Everyone, may I have your attention? Shortly before 12:15 today, an active shooter situation was called in at the First Detroit Bank. There is currently a standoff with law enforcement from DPD. Officers Miller and Pearson were the first to arrive on scene, and Lieutenant Anderson heard the call and went to provide support. SWAT is on scene and attempting to negotiate. I'll keep you all updated as I am, but this is an active scene and I ask you all to avoid any contact with the officers on site until we have confirmed that the situation is controlled. They will reach out to us when they're able." He gave a small nod to the bullpen and the staff members watching him with intent, worried glances. "Thank you all for your time." Fowler looked towards Connor very briefly with something he couldn't quite place. _Sympathy?_

Connor sat down at his desk as Fowler returned to his office. He stared ahead at the terminal, unsure of how to proceed. Hank had been at the site of an active hostage situation for approximately 19 minutes and 26 seconds. 27 seconds. 28 seconds. 29-

"Hey," a voice called quietly. Connor snapped out of his trance and looked at the body beside his desk. Looking up, it was Nines, towering above him, his square jaw set but piercing grey eyes looking soft. "Anderson will be okay. He's a tough old detective."

Fiddling anxiously with his quarter, Connor nodded. "Yes, he is. He… he will be just fine."

Everything in Connor was screaming to go to Hank, to be there, to provide backup. Anything. As much as he wanted to, he understood Fowler's instructions. If the responding units requested a closed scene, a new presence could easily destabilize their suspects and endanger everyone involved.

So, the android returned his attention to his terminal, quickly downloading the files that Hank had been working on. If he couldn't help the Lieutenant at the scene, he may as well work on paperwork for him.

\--

Hank cursed loudly as he and the other officers listened to the negotiating officer in the bank. SWAT was positioned around the building, ready to take out the aggressors if given the order, but the three suspects could easily end up hurting civilians if they were shot upon. There were seven hostages inside that appeared shaken, but uninjured. 

Beside him, waiting with his service weapon and a vest, Chris Miller gave Hank a sideways look. "Think the negotiator is getting anywhere?"

Hank peered in the windows. The negotiator appeared relaxed while talking, standing near the front entrance, but the suspects didn't seem convinced yet.

"Could go either way, I think," the Lieutenant responded. "Wish Connor was here. Kid is a stellar negotiator."

Miller chuckled. "Yeah, he isn't so bad."

A sudden burst of gunfire from within the building shocked the entire area. The SWAT team advanced, shouting that the suspects had fired and it quickly went from "negotiating" to "neutralizing." 

Holding his weapon in position, Hank rushed forward with Miller and Pearson at his back. They hurried toward the entrance with SWAT in front of them, a flurry of action and bullets as hostages scattered to the back of the lobby, desperate to avoid being caught in the crossfire. SWAT quickly neutralized one suspect and disarmed another. Hank stood outside the doorway to the bank, waiting for an opportunity to assist however he needed to. 

Without warning, the third suspect rushed forward towards the door. SWAT fired as he ran, but the suspect barely reacted as he was shot once in the shoulder, ignoring demands to drop his weapon and stand down. In a moment, Hank ran through the doorway with his weapon held up. He met the suspect's gaze for only a moment, his blown pupils staring down at the detective in a drug-induced haze with no intention of stopping. 

A flurry of bullets passed from Hank, SWAT, and the suspect.

Within seconds, the suspect hit the ground.

It took moments for Hank to stumble out the doorway, adrenaline pumping through his system and breaths coming out ragged. 

_Fuck, my back, I feel like I've-_

Hank realized as he tripped over his own feet that the burning in his chest was not from adrenaline and back pain. He glanced down and saw the bright red arterial blood drenching his shirt.

Miller appeared at his side (Was he always there? How long has he been talking?) and grabbed Hank's arm. His lips were moving. (Why isn't he saying anything?)

"-come on, Lieutenant, answer me, where are you hit? Get over here, man, come on," Chris said in a jumble of words. Hank weakly allowed himself to be lead towards the line of vehicles outside the bank. He didn't notice that he was leaning on Miller until he stumbled and nearly fell, held up by the smaller officer as if out of spite alone.

Hank finally made it to the curb and was helped to the passenger side of Chris's patrol car. The moment he connected with the seat, the adrenaline seemed to flee his system and the pain hit him. Fuck, the pain. It felt like someone had set him on fire. No, not quite. Like someone ran him through with a flaming hot fire poker. Hank gritted his teeth, arching his back against the passenger seat. Before he knew it, his jacket and shirt were being pulled off him by Miller and Pearson. 

"Hey, Hank, come on man," Chris said anxiously, snapping his fingers in front of Hank's face. "Stay with me, you bastard. You're gonna be alright. HEY! WE GOT AN OFFICER DOWN HERE!" 

Feeling his head roll against his shoulders, Hank reached out. Instinctively, Chris grasped his hand in comfort. Groaning, the detective pulled his hand free and shook his head, glaring at his jacket. "Ph-phone. Give me- I need- phone."

Pearson grabbed the cell phone from Hank's jacket pocket, pressing it into his bloodied hand quietly.

With shaking hands, Hank dialed a familiar number. 

\--

**_Incoming call from: Hank_ **

The notification on his HUD made Connor jump. He grabbed his cell phone from his pocket, he idly wondered why Hank made him even get one. Cybernetic communication to cell phones was one of his many capabilities, but the Lieutenant seemed to prefer talking via cell phone. Something much more… human about it, maybe. The android quickly hurried across the bullpen to the break room, seeking even moderate privacy. 

Holding the device to his audio processor, Connor stumbled over his words, nervously running a hand through his hair. "Han- Lieutenant? Hello? Are you there? Lieutenant?"

On the other line, Connor felt his thirium pump stutter when he heard pained breathing and hurried, panicked voices in the background.

"H-hey, kid," Hank muttered. "Listen, I've been shot. I got- I got hit."

"H-Hank-! Where-"

"No, no, no, don't come here, kid. Listen," Hank broke his speech with a harsh groan, grimacing while Connor heard Chris Miller apologizing and saying something about having to apply pressure. "Fuck, shit. Fuck. Listen, kid. If I don't- just- you've been good for me, Connor. You've been who I needed. And I know- God- I know I'm not, I'm not always the best to be a-around. But I just wanted to… wanted t'tell you that I- I love you, kid. I do, you're a damn good person. You've tau-taught me so, so much. So… thank you."

Connor felt something on his face. Reaching his free hand up, he was shocked to see that he was crying. "Hank, you're- you're going to be okay, please, Hank, I don't- I can't d-do this without- just- I'm-" his words failed with a harsh sob being pulled from his chest.

"Listen to me, son. You're, you're a good person. We bleed different but- but you're alive. Don't let no one tell you different, okay?" In the background of the call, there were approaching sirens and bustling voices. Hank's voice returned but was undercut with raspy breaths and was steadily weakening. "You give Sumo lo-lots of love for me. I love you, son."

On the other end of the line, Connor grabbed a fistful of his hair and pressed the phone to his ear impossibly harder, trying to hear Hank's breathing. He has to be breathing. He's got to- he has to, he has to, he has to, he has to, he has to, he has to-

A hand suddenly touched Connor's shoulder and gently pulled the phone from his grasp. He hadn't even noticed that the call had ended. His breaths came in harsh, short pulls and there was a burning in his chest. A wide, rough hand settled on his shoulder. Connor looked to his side and saw none other than Detective Reed.

"Hey, look at me, man," the shorter man said quickly. "We heard Anderson got hit." He took in the sight of the advanced prototype reduced to a shaking, sobbing mess and was suddenly transported to the first night he saw Nines in such a state, overwhelmed by emotions he wasn't equipped to handle. 

Gavin set his other hand on Connor's other shoulder, turning the android toward him. "Listen to me, asshole! Come on, you gotta get it together, okay? I- I know you're scared," his voice softened impossibly, pulling Connor from his panic simply out of surprise. "Me 'n Nines will take you to the hospital to wait, okay? Your old man is still alive, let's go wait for him, man. He'll be okay. He'll… he'll be okay."

Swallowing thickly and coughing to clear his airway, Connor nodded quickly. "Of, of course. I'm so sorry. Of course." 

Gavin bit his lip. "Just- you're fine. Everyone freaks out sometimes. Come on, tin can." 

\--

The first thing Hank registered was a burning ache in his chest. It took moments for him to recognize a soft beeping sound, drawing him out of his sleep. He peeled his eyes open painfully, trying to take a full breath and suddenly feeling like he was choking. He brought a weak hand to his face, grabbing at the plastic he felt there.

"Hank, no, don't touch that," a soft voice said hurriedly, accompanied by a hand grasping his. Hank's eyes focused lazily on the face at his bedside.

Connor.

Relaxing minutely, Hank tried to sigh. Again, the device in his mouth got in his way. The more he thought about it, the more the Lieutenant suddenly realized that the device was in his throat, choking him, preventing him from taking a breath, why is it there, why is he being choked, what's-

"Hank, your stress level is nearing dangerous levels, you need to calm down," Connor tried, stabbing a button on the side of his hospital bed. He grabbed both of Hank's hands and gently held them on the detective's stomach, without pressure but not letting him grab the device in his mouth. Soon, a nurse hurried in.

"Hello, Mr. Anderson, my name is Jackie, I'm your nurse. You want that vent out, huh? Just relax, okay? Let it breathe for you, we will get the doctor in to remove it as soon as we can, sir. Relax, don't fight it, I promise it is okay." The nurse moved around him swiftly, watching Hank's tired eyes as she checked his vitals and ensured he hadn't dislodged the ventilator. Her patient relaxed slightly. "Good, Mr. Anderson, you're doing great. The doctor is on his way, okay? It'll be out in no time!"

Connor held Hank's hands tighter and watched the nurse walk back to the hallway to wait for the doctor. "Do you know where you are, Lieutenant?"

Sluggishly, Hank nodded. He remembered slowly, then all at once. The bank. The bullets. The fear that he would die and have his last words to Connor be said in anger.

A slight, tired smile reached Connor's lips. "You- you're okay, detective. How do you feel? Wait, you can't- nevermind, sorry."

Hank furrowed his brow, unaccustomed to seeing Connor so frazzled. He reached a hand out and touched the android's cheek, calloused palm shockingly soft with concern. He looked like he wanted to speak, but couldn't.

A soft knock on the door frame drew both of their attention away. "Hello, Mr. Anderson, I'm Dr. King. Let's get that vent out, huh? The android will have to step out."

Connor's eyes widened and Hank noted that his shoulders tensed. The detective grunted roughly around the ventilator, shaking his head once. His doctor noticed and relented.

"Okay, the android needs to stay out of our way, anyway. You-" he pointed to Connor- "go stand over there, don't get in anyone's way."

Hank didn't look pleased with the doctor's tone, but he worked with them, coughing harshly as they pulled the ventilator out and leaving him sore but happier. 

"Con," he said, his voice rough and gravelly. He reached his hand out towards Connor. "C'mere, kid."

Connor quickly strode forward, sweeping between the doctor and nurse standing in his way. He stood by Hank's bedside with a hand on his arm, grounding himself with the contact. 

"Mr. Anderson, you're very lucky," Dr. King stated flatly. "You were struck by two bullets, one in the stomach and another in the upper left of your chest. You're extremely lucky they didn't hit any vital points or you likely would have bled out before even getting to surgery."

Connor's hand tightened on Hank's arm.

"We were able to fix the damage, though. You're healing remarkably well for someone your age. We hadn't expected you to be awake so soon, even. As long as you're continuing on this path, we can likely move you from the ICU tonight and discharged by the end of the week. Obviously, it'll be a bit of time off work and physical therapy, but that's a ways off. Until then, I'll let you rest a bit. Give a shout if you need anything. And don't let the android stress you out, let us know if you need a place to charge it or something."

Hank scowled. "He's staying with me, Doc. He's my kid."

The doctor looked like he struggled not to roll his eyes, but he walked out with a simple farewell. Jackie hesitated and turned back as she followed. 

"Sorry for the doctor's behavior. He is a bit abrasive. Connor, you're welcome to stay as long as you need. There is therium in the fridge in the waiting room down the hall, and I can bring you a rollaway bed if you need to enter stasis to rest." She smiled shyly and left, shutting the door behind her.

Sighing heavily, Hank glanced at Connor. "You 'kay, kid?"

Nodding too quickly, Connor hissed, "Of course. I'm not the one that was shot."

"You're allowed to not be okay, son."

"I'm fine."

"Are you?"

Connor grabbed the coin from his pocket and rubbed his thumb over it. "I-I'm fine. I was… I was worried about you, but I'm fine. Really."

The icy blue eyes staring up at him softened. "I can imagine. I'm sorry to give you such a scare. I just heard the call and I was close by…"

"I understand. You were doing your job, and it's- it's a risk." Connor looked to the side, his LED flashing red for only a second. "I… when you called, I was so scared it would be the last I heard from you. You… taught me what it is to, to be alive, Hank. I'd still be under Cyberlife's control if it weren't for you. And all I could think is that I'm not-" he hesitated, edging even closer to the hospital bed and grasping Hank's arm tighter- "I'm not _ready_ to do it without you."

Hank placed a hand over Connor's. "Son, don't you worry. You can't get rid of me that easy."

"Why would I want to get rid-"

Chuckling, then wincing, Hank shook his head. "Fuck, kid, nevermind. You look beat. You should try and get a little rest. Whaddya say?"

Connor nodded. "Sure." He pulled up a chair to the bedside, knowing he can easily enter stasis in a chair versus laying down. 

Again, Hank shook his head. "Nah, kid, you're not sleeping in a chair. Yeah, yeah, androids don't sleep, fuck off." He scooted himself over in the bed, slowly and carefully. "Don't overthink it, just get over here." 

And that was how Jackie found them when she peered in later to check on them. Hank was lying on his back, reclined in the bed and sleeping soundly. Beside him was Connor, looking impossibly small beside the Lieutenant. The android had one hand on Hank's arm, gently avoiding the IV in the crook of his arm. His LED pulsed a slow, gentle blue for the first time since the phone call.

**Author's Note:**

> For right now, this is a one-shot but I have an idea for a second chapter if there's any interest, let me know what you think!


End file.
